In Job 41, God describes a creature to the title character, Job, of unequal power and terror. The Leviathan is a creature of unparalleled strength and mass. Its scales are thicker than any armor, and it has two layers of them. Its mouth is ringed with fearsome teeth, its eyes shine like beams of light, it breathes fire, and its belly is lined with jagged plates. No weapon can harm it, and those who even look upon it are overwhelmed with fear.
But in the midst of all this, God also says something very interesting to Job. He asks, "Who then is able to stand against me?"
An odd thing to suddenly interject, but God prefaced this question by asking Job if he could make Leviathan a pet or put it on a leash. The point is pretty clear. God was effectively telling Job (and you), "you can't... but I can." He even makes the point clear by reminding us all that "everything under heaven belongs to me."
Job isn't necessarily an overlooked book in the Bible, but I feel that God's dressing down of Job isn't fully understood. People see it as God making it clear that He is the creator and understands things that we can't possibly fathom, but in 41, there is something else that I think we miss. God is telling us that there are realities so vast, so violent, and so alien that even direct exposure to them could break you.
God makes it clear that we are dwarfed by things more powerful and terrible than we can imagine. Things that would annihilate us if they weren't restrained.
Christmas is a time of year that is filled with warmth, family, and love. It's associated with snow, Santa Claus, presents, and an elf on a shelf. It's reruns of A Christmas Story on television and hot cocoa. I think this is great. I don't think it's any accident that Christmas is most people's favorite time of year, because beneath all the garlands and ornaments is the true reason for the season, the birth of Jesus Christ. Here in the First World, it's pessimistically associated with consumerism, and while that's not wrong, I think there's a strategic element. There's a warmth to it that, when you strip away everything else, can all be attributed to Christ.
But beneath the "Hey Ho, the Mistletoe" and "Jingle Bell Rock" is an event that turned the tide of a cosmic war, and one that we couldn't possibly win without the love of God.
H.P. Lovecraft, while not the inventor of cosmic horror, brought a thought into mainstream consideration that was far closer to the truth than I think even he understood. The universe is full of non-human intelligence that far outclasses our own. We are powerless against these forces. They're ancient minds of incredible will, strategy, and they possess agency. A good many of them are hostile, and they understand the universe better than we do.
However, Lovecraft's horror involved many of these minds not even paying attention to us in the same way we don't pay attention to ants while we're walking down the sidewalk. We're not so lucky. Our reality is that these hostile forces are hyper-focused on us. In fact, there are some of these hostile entities that know you personally, and by name, and they hate you. We are told not to converse with them in any regard, even in hate or personal rebuke, because you cannot debate or outwit them. They're too learned and experienced. You have to appeal to God to intercede on your behalf.
The Bible gives you peeks behind the veil that keeps you feeling comfortable and safe. It mentions principalities, which are invisible forces that govern nations, and they are not friendly. Ancients saw these fallen entities as gods that they sacrificed to, and sometimes the sacrifices were children and babies. It's revealed to us that these forces take part in human politics and shape nations in ways you can't comprehend. They are only restrained in their machinations by a much more clever, all-knowing God who outmaneuvers them consistently.
There are even places we're nearer to than you think that are horrifying. The Abyss, as described in several books, including Luke 8:31 and Revelation 9, is a place so ancient and terrible that even demons don't want to go there. The thing is, it's never described as a place with approximate geography. If you strip away all the mystical meanings, it sounds like a dimension of space-time so removed from God's love that going there is nightmarish even to the most evil of creatures. Demons beg Jesus not to send them there, and ask Him permission to possess a bunch of pigs, which they then drown.
As you can see, you are locked in a struggle you can't fully understand. Very real, very dangerous entities circle you like sharks in the water, and all of it is only held at bay by an all-powerful, loving God whose abilities and mind are so incomprehensibly vast and complex that we will never understand it, even in our perfect bodies after the end of days. He restrains the terrors of the universe and stands between them and us.
Which brings me to the culmination of a long, drawn-out plan to save us once and for all.
Christmas signifies the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We celebrate this moment every year as a moment of great significance. It is, after all, the year our King was born, and that in itself is worth celebrating, but on a cosmic scale, this moment is far more significant.
As I wrote last year, the story leading up to Christmas is far more complicated and action-packed than most people realize. Even my little story of the war is pretty light on the events, but it shows that the birth of Christ was a maneuver so incredible that its consequences for those who oppose God wouldn't even be fully understood by them. This is an event that would signal the beginning of the end of the war and rewrite the spiritual laws of the universe.
Read: A Cosmic Struggle: The Circumstances That Led to the Birth of Christ and the Holy Day of Christmas
But Christmas isn't just the setup of the most brilliant strategic maneuvers in the history of warfare; it's proof positive that God has us. We are kept safe in His love, and it shows us how far He is willing to go to save us and bring us back to Him. It shows us that for all the terrible power that mounts against us, it can't defeat us because He stands constantly between us and a danger we can't possibly comprehend or defeat.
And how like God to have a baby in a manger — a seemingly simple, tender, and humble moment — be the beginning of the unmaking of a grand, cosmic-level evil.
Christmas is proof of everything God told Job. He can put collars on and bring to heel even the most horrifying things. That a swaddled baby among barn animals and beasts of burden is more powerful than the greatest demon when His hand is on it. The birth of Christ is an event that truly highlights to us, and those destructive cosmic forces, that no matter how terrible and powerful, they are woefully outmatched.
It's the culmination of both a promise and a warning.
Merry Christmas to all of you.
